Obligation
by pkabyssinian1990
Summary: What is Aya going to do with a hurt Schu? Nothing is as it seems and I'm just happy to be writing. Slight hint of yaoi.


Title: Obligation  
Rating: PG-13, nothing too gay. )  
Pairing: Almost Aya x Schuldich  
Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue? I promise to return the boys in good working order.

Author Notes: So, this was supposed to be Yohji and Aya sap. Uh. Yeah, I don't know what happened to it. I guess I've lost Yohji. sniff I'm hoping this means that my writers block is breaking up, I've been trying to write and getting nowhere. This just popped up and I managed to finish it. Yay! Fair warning: this isn't beta'd. Gomen.

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Aya felt a light touch at his back. The faint skimming of fingers across his shoulder blade, letting him know that Yohji was there; as if he wouldn't be aware of the heavy smell of cigarettes. The thought was unkind and Aya squashed it, hid it, pretended he had never thought it.

Lying in the road was another man. Coppery red hair made darker by blood and, most likely, vomit. It was almost the same dark scarlet as Aya's now. The man was bruised and broken looking, like a dog hit by a car. Aya made a soft noise in the back of his throat; it might have been disgust or pity.

"Leave him," Yohji finally whispered before turning and walking away. The long length of his coat swished and swirled. Honey blond hair caught the faint light of stars and moon.

With a sigh, a sound that was almost like suffering, Aya bent and retrieved the body. Better to think of the body as an 'it', better to pretend not to know the identity.

Four nights of patient nursing, skills learned at his sister's bedside, finally gave their reward. Green eyes cracked open, glaring weakly at Aya. The others had refused to partake in this travesty, only Aya felt the need to try to repair what had been left.

"Fuck off," Schuldich managed to growl, his voice scratchy from disuse and dryness.

Aya gave a faint smile, one that hinted about patience and crossing lines. Schuldich gave a weak mental probe and hissed when his telepath passed through Aya as if the other man were a pane of glass. There was nothing to read, nothing for his voracious mind to latch onto, which meant that there was nothing to tell him how to act. Fear chased through the German, a weakness he hoped he was able to hide.

"You were badly hurt. I don't plan on re-injuring you," Aya said calmly, his voice bland and even. Schuldich had the wild idea that perhaps Aya spoke like this to animals and small children. It didn't make the man seem less threatening.

"What am I supposed to think when I wake up in your clinic? It's not as if we're friends," Schuldich admitted, his words hinting at other questions. His long fingers picked at the thin cotton gown that covered him.

An elegant shrug was his only answer. Aya's plum colored eyes met and held Schuldich's. If eyes were windows to the fucking soul, then why couldn't Schuldich see anything but his own reflection?

"I don't know what you would be thinking," Aya temporized as Schuldich opened his mouth to complain again.

The matter-of-factness to the words caused laughter to bubble out of Schuldich. It made his aching ribs flare with pain, but he didn't care. Pain was good; it meant he was still alive. He wasn't dead.

When the laughter trailed out of him, Schuldich could feel the heat of infection wrestling through his body. His bones ached with fever and his skin felt like warm paper. He threw a glance at Aya, the other man was already getting him cool water.

"Drink this. Then tell me what you are thinking," Aya murmured. The soft, "don't spook the animals" voice was back. Schuldich couldn't remember the last time someone took care of him. He didn't want to remember.

Then the meaning of the words hit him, for a moment it was as if Aya had thrown actual projectiles. Schuldich stopped in mid-sip of the luke-warm water, the very idea freezing him.

"What's wrong?" Aya demanded, obviously his patience wasn't infinite.

Schuldich shook his head, allowing his hair to cascade down and hide his face. He wasn't created for thought, he was a sponge. Schuldich constantly soaked in the ideas of others and acted accordingly. There was the rebellious side of most natures that he amplified and tried to claim as his own, but for the most part he was happy to follow order. To follow other's thoughts. Never his own.

"You ask strange questions," Schuldich finally answered. His breathing was slightly erratic and Schuldich forced himself to calm down before finishing his water.

Aya took the glass from the German's numb fingers. Without any fuss he checked the bandages that spotted Schuldich's body, frowning at the fever that still pulsed under the skin.

Schuldich watched Aya walk away, his body forcing him to lie back, to relax into darkness. Sleep would help to heal him. He should rest.

When he woke again, the room was darker and there was the soft beeping of a heart monitor. Had the fever worsened? He no longer felt the deep ache and restlessness that normally accompanied high temperatures.

"Ah, I see you've rejoined us," Aya said gently, Schuldich had the idea that the other man was smiling as he said it.

"I was tired," Schuldich replied. Heavy lassitude still pinned his body down, his eyes seemed uncertain if they wanted to stay open or not.

"I noticed."

Schuldich opened his mouth to say something else, but a straw was placed at his lips and he gratefully sucked in the cool water. The liquid felt and tasted so good he drained the glass before the idea of talking returned to him.

"Your time here is almost done," Aya told him, a sadness tightening the corners of his eyes. Without his telepathy, though, Schuldich didn't know how to read body language.

"Then what will you do with me?" Schuldich sneered, the old fear clamoring through him.

"I believe in the capture and release theory with wildlife," Aya told him, humor lacing through his tone. Even head-blind Schuldich could hear it.

"Why?"

That one word was so plaintive and filled with the longing to know that Aya paused. The slick answers he had lined up remained silent inside him as Schuldich's eyes searched his face. There was no answer Aya could give, so he remained silent.

Schuldich struggled to sit up, he was drained from the fever and his body still ached from the abuse it had been through. He tried to think of what had happened, but his mind blocked the trauma. It could have been Weiss or Schwartz that had beaten him this badly. In the end, it didn't really matter which, the end damage was the same.

"I did not do this," Aya told him vehemently. Schuldich nodded, not caring if the other man was telling the truth or not.

"What do you want? Why did you take me?" Schuldich asked dully, not bothering to raise his head.

"It wasn't right to leave you there. It would be… wrong, inhumane. You have the right to be yourself, to have your own thoughts," Aya finally answered, his voice thin and strained as if he hadn't wanted to say the words.

"I don't have any," Schuldich whispered.

The bed dipped as Aya sat down and awkwardly slung an arm around Schuldich. The silence was thick and Schuldich was surprised to feel Aya trembling slightly.

"It is wrong what they do to us. We are people; we aren't just toys for their wars. Don't let them take everything from you," Aya hissed, his arm tightening around Schuldich.

Harsh laughter forced its way out of Schuldich's throat and he coughed around it as if it were choking him.

"You're a fool if you believe that Abyssinian. We don't really exist," Schuldich rasped, his words as cutting as knives.

"Don't you want anything?" Aya demanded.

Forcing his stiff body to move, Schuldich twisted in Aya's arms to stare at the other man. He forced his telepathy into Aya, delving deep into the other man. Again, he touched nothing; no thoughts, no spark. Frustration and fear curdled Schuldich's stomach. There had never been a time when he had been allowed to have his own thoughts or to want anything that wasn't already prescribed.

It was a risk. Schuldich didn't know how to take risks.

"Kiss me," Schuldich breathed. It was the first thing that came to mind, and since there was no one to dictate to him then this had to be what he wanted. Right?

Aya didn't hesitate, his lips slid over Schuldich's without any shyness. For a moment the kiss was chaste and closed lipped. Schuldich changed it by simply opening his mouth and allowing Aya to do as he wished.

The soft sensation of Aya's tongue dancing against his made Schuldich whimper, he arched in Aya's arms to press himself closer to the other man. This is what he had wanted, someone who desired Schuldich; not the template that Rosenkreutz had created.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it had started and it left Schuldich longing for more. This was addictive, this wanting things. He wasn't sure that he could go back to his old life and remain as passively accepting as he had been. How could this not change things?

"It's time for you to wake up," Aya whispered against Schuldich's forehead. It was only then that Schuldich realized that he had closed his eyes. With child-like petulance he shook his head.

Aya leaned Schuldich back against the pillows; with surprising gentleness he kissed each tightly closed eyelid. The weight on the bed shifted and Schuldich knew that Aya had stood up. It wasn't right to deny him this. It wasn't fair.

"Things are rarely fair. Don't let your sense of obligation negate your own desires," Aya breathed against Schuldich's ear. He had to be bent impossibly over the bed in order to do that. Against his better judgment Schuldich cracked open on eye to see what strange contortion Aya had managed.

Crawford glared down, without a drop of compassion. Schuldich could feel the weight of Crawford's thoughts, the anger and disappointment. Such a change from where he had been. He had been elsewhere, hadn't he?

"You're awake. Don't ever fucking do that again," Crawford demanded. Unsaid words hammered at Schuldich, trying to beat him into submission. Schuldich closed his eyes again, disappointment zinging through him. He was left with what he always had– nothing but dreams and longing.


End file.
